


The Love You Never Find

by mansikka



Series: The Love You Never Find [1]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Chance Meetings, Developing Friendships, Family, Firehouse 118 Family (9-1-1), Jealous Eddie Diaz, M/M, POV Alternating, Pining, Protective Firehouse 126 Crew, Sad Evan "Buck" Buckley, Worried Eddie Diaz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:02:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23119336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: They don't want him. And they don't need him. So nobody will miss Buck if he leaves Los Angeles altogether, right?
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: The Love You Never Find [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1661806
Comments: 55
Kudos: 502
Collections: 9-1-1 Tales





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Here is a new Buddie story that probably started because I said I was still at the stage when all I wanted to give Buddie was fluff. Brain didn't agree, so this one is a bit of a mix of everything. Fluff is in there along with angst, pining, some found family stuff and hurt/comfort at some point as well. Also Jealous!Eddie makes a little appearance. Lots of things. This is being posted in 4 parts because each part is, well, a different part of the story. Also, ratings will be different; part one can stay happily teen, yet the other parts will be mature or explicit. 
> 
> What else to tell you? Hmm. This is a canon divergence where the lawsuit didn't happen and neither did the illegal fight ring thingamy, we split off just as Buck realises he's been replaced at the 118 without a word :frowning: and if a firefighter can no longer be a firefighter in the 9-1-1 world in Los Angeles, well. Where do you think he might end up? :wink: timelines have been taken into consideration and wilfully ignored, probably; I have no idea. Also, be ready for 9-1-1 typical 'we can resolve this unbelievable incident with the most convenient of coincidences' because that is the sandbox we got given to play in and I intended to play! Also, the title of this fic is lovingly borrowed from the Dermot Kennedy song, Lost. Okay that is all; happy reading! Feel free to yell at me wherever if you feel the urge; I probably deserve it

**Buck**

The air is too thick, and heavy, every mouthful he sucks in damp and choking. He can't even see, tears stinging his eyes and raining on his cheeks that add salt to every gasp. When did he pull over? Buck backhands his tears looking around trying to get his bearings, recognizing a diner, and then a library before he can pull back into the road again. Though where is he supposed to go?

They've replaced him. Without ceremony, without warning, with not even a single thought. No one thought to tell him; not even _Eddie_, who Buck thought... he _had_ thought...

Buck bites back more tears knowing if he doesn't get himself home and off the road then he will either crash or pull over only to cry himself raw. He'll do that anyway, but right now he needs to be alone for it. Buck is _ashamed_; that he has fooled himself into believing the 118 really is his family. This last action shows he isn't even considered much of a friend. Why would he be, though? Buck's friends are few and far between. They always have been. People don't tend to stick around for him, or include him in things; that's just how it is. But he thought he'd _found_ something here. He thought—

he is _nothing_. Not to these people, not to anyone. Maybe Maddie, but that is probably just because of some weird sense of obligation because of shared blood. No, Buck tells himself refusing to shed a single more public tear, he isn't wanted here. He isn't wanted anywhere. How could he let himself even dare to think otherwise? Why did he ever let himself hope?

* * *

**Eddie**

_Good to see you, man?_ Eddie curses under his breath replaying his words to Buck in the firehouse for the hundredth time since realizing they had even come from his mouth. Spoken like Buck is just a person he works with. Spoken like he isn't his best friend. Spoken like Buck hasn't brought light into Eddie's world that he didn't know he had been without.

_Good to see you, man?_

Eddie's curses become verbal, tired after a shift throughout which those words have replayed on taunting repeat. Buck was at theirs for dinner just two nights ago. Christopher stayed with Buck for his last shift. Buck is _family_, and Eddie is falling for him hard. Which he'd never meant to, not liking how out of control _feeling_ makes him, well, _feel_.

Perhaps that is why he used those words, like a throwaway comment, like Buck didn't really mean that much to him at all. Eddie is sure the way he feels about Buck is under control around the 118, but Lena, she has this look about her that Eddie fears must see right through his facade. Was he cold with Buck because of her being there? Eddie doesn't know, and now can't help wondering just how things must have looked for Buck.

And his _locker_, Eddie thinks, slamming his fist against the steering wheel once he's parked up outside Buck's, his name taped over like he is replaceable. Eddie has been so worried about Buck hurting himself on those blood thinners that he'd taken the decision by Bobby that Buck isn't up for working at face value. The thought of losing him, after almost losing him already, Eddie knows he won't survive.

He should have told Buck about Lena. He should have done something to Buck's locker so it wasn't _him_ that looked temporary in the only place Eddie knows Buck really thinks is home. But he didn't, and now Eddie has to question why. Guilt wraps itself around his heart and pinches at his stomach as he climbs out of the truck.

Carla is with Christopher, so if Eddie's rehearsed apology takes an hour or five hours to get out, it will be fine. He raises his hand to knock on the door taking in a gulp of air to steady himself. _Please_, Eddie thinks, asking Buck not to be too mad at him, not to look anywhere near as upset as he is sure he must be. Buck hasn't answered the six texts he has sent him throughout the shift, and when Eddie tried to call on a break, the call went straight to voicemail. This is going to be _hard_; there is no way it wouldn't be. There is also no way he doesn't deserve it.

Eddie staggers back when _Maddie_ yanks the door open, glaring up at him with such ferocity, it steals the breath from his lungs.

"You _bastard_," she snarls, her hands in tight fists down by her sides like she wants to punch him.

"Hey—"

"All of you. _All_ of you. How _dare_ you treat my brother like he is nothing to any of you? After everything he's been through? After everything he's done?"

When Eddie can't make himself answer for how surprised he is, Maddie shoves at his chest, crumpling against him in tears. Eddie goes to hug her a second too late but she is already pushing back from him, holding her hand out to say she doesn't want him near.

"Look. Maddie—"

"You know. I almost—_almost_—understand Bobby. Almost. But even he didn't give Buck a second thought."

"Maddie—"

"And _Chim_," Maddie continues looking even more incensed, "well, it's good to know where _his_ priorities lie. I guess I know why he didn't want to get involved. Not bothering to even tell me so I could be there for Buck when you all cast him aside."

"We didn't _cast him aside_. He's on blood thinners. Cap was just—"

"But _you_," Maddie says, slapping Eddie's hand away when he goes to reach for her again. "_You?_ He thought you were his friend. He _thought_ you were family. Did you know that?"

Eddie feels sick. "He is. He _is_ family."

"He is _my_ family," Maddie tells him, tears thickening her words. "He is _all_ I have here. And because of _you_, he's gone. _Gone_, Eddie. Because of _you_."

Eddie's heart is in his throat preventing him from saying a single word. But since Maddie has already slammed the door in his face, and all he can hear is her crying on the other side of it, there is little he can say. _Gone_? he thinks in a daze, no amount of him pounding on the door making Maddie open it again. Eddie climbs into his truck frantically calling Buck's phone, cursing once more when the call just rings out.

* * *

**Buck**

"This place is unbelievable," Buck says knowing he is repeating himself but still not able to stop the words falling from his mouth. Everything in the 126 firehouse looks new, or at least of quality the 118 will never get. He can almost picture Bobby in the kitchen, and knows without question how hard it would be to get Chim out of one of those comfy looking cots. Though Buck then reminds himself neither of these people will be thinking of _him_ right now. So he pushes them from his thoughts, continues to follow Captain Strand as he makes his way up the steps to his office still _chattering_, catching a smirk from a Judd Ryder that Buck can't help returning. Owen Strand must be this much of a talker all the time, then.

By the time they reach the office Owen is wincing for being slightly out of breath. Buck watches Judd's demeanor shift from amused to concerned, Owen waving away his comments before Judd can get a word out.

"So. What do you think?" Owen asks once they are all sat.

"This place is incredible," Buck says, sure he is about to wake up from a really, really good dream.

"Yes it is," Owen agrees with a wistful smile and an air of pride that tells Buck just how hard it is for him to be leaving this firehouse behind. Even if it _is_ just for a few months so he can fully recover after his chemotherapy. He has made that clear no less than three times while giving Buck his tour. "And you know, I'm not really in a position to be offering you anything more than this temporary assignment."

"What he means is, don't be getting too comfortable; alright?" Judd asks, with a slow drawl that is back to being tinged with amusement. "You're only filling in for me, so I can fill in for _him_."

"And I appreciate that. More than you know," Buck tells them both with as sincere a look as he can give them. Buck can't honestly believe his luck. He had been so crushed for being so easily forgotten by _his_ crew, that Buck would have taken anything to get away from Los Angeles. When he has the time to process, Buck might think more about how he ended up here, just two days after being so gutted he'd considered walking away from firefighting altogether. Though how could he, when being a firefighter is his life, is the one thing to give him purpose?

It's ironic, Buck thinks, how quickly things turned around for him. One minute he was in his apartment feeling like his world was ending, and the next he was on the first flight out to Austin after a brief stop to fill in some paperwork at the head office of the fire department. He probably landed before his team on the 118 even finished their shift. Buck has a hotel for a week until he finds somewhere to stay for the six months he'll be here. He has renewed hope again, even if his heart still aches, and he still feels like an idiot for thinking of _them_ as more than just his colleagues. Buck is going to throw himself into this temporary assignment here in Texas, toughen himself up a little, then see wherever fate decides to send him next.

"Well," Judd says when Owen gives a discreet nod that Buck takes to mean he has passed some unspoken test. "I'd say it's time for you to meet your new crew. And don't make plans for tonight," Judd adds once they have all shaken hands and are making their way back out of the office. "Dinner's at ours. Whole team."

* * *

**Eddie**

Maddie refuses to talk to him. Chim hasn't made eye contact with Eddie for a week. Hen walks away whenever Eddie enters a room when she is _texting_; Eddie has to hope it means buck is at least talking to _her_. Bobby knows but isn't saying anything; at least, he knows that Buck is working elsewhere. The trail Buck has left behind him is closed off so he can't be traced. Maybe it was intentional. Maybe Buck wanted to make sure no one came looking for him. Maybe he didn't think anyone would even bother to look, and this hostile feeling Eddie has, that everyone knows something he doesn't, is nothing to do with Buck at all.

Eddie wants to say the hardest thing about Buck being gone is not knowing what to tell Christopher. He asks about Buck every night, and Eddie has caught him more than once trying to call him on his phone. The artwork Christopher makes for Buck is beginning to pile up, cutting guilt into Eddie every time he sees the stack on the corner of the dining table. But it isn't that at all. It is how desperately _he_ misses him, how he can't sleep for wondering where he is. And _how_ Buck is. And sending out silent _I'm sorrys_ as he lies awake at night, begging Buck to answer just one of his messages so he at least knows he is okay.

He should have spoken to Buck. He _should_. They spend so much of their time together both in and out of work, that there should have been at least some conversations about working. And not working. And less of basically telling Buck to _man up. _Not that he'd ever put it quite like that when they spent time together, of course. Eddie's time with Buck tends to be spent just enjoying being with him, monitoring some of the things he says and does so how he feels about Buck isn't too obvious.

Maybe if he'd at least told Buck how scared he was of him getting hurt, maybe he wouldn't have felt so shut out. Though how could Buck feel anything but? Because they _did_ do, the whole crew, even if Eddie feels the weight of responsibility for that more than anyone. Because Buck is his friend, Buck is... a lot to him. He means a lot; more than Eddie is brave enough to say out loud. Buck's absence is a hole in his chest that it is getting harder to ignore. Though who can he talk to about this?

"Mr. Diaz?"

Eddie snaps his head from side to side to clear his thoughts, smiling at Christopher's _therapist,_ hoping he hasn't missed something important. "Sorry."

"Long day?"

"Something like that," Eddie agrees, pinching his eyes and forcing a firmer smile on his face. He nods through the glass to the office where Christopher is happily coloring in. "How is he?"

"Christopher is doing amazing work. You should be proud."

"I am," Eddie says, knowing new guilt for losing himself in thoughts of missing Buck when his _son_ is in therapy because _he_ isn't enough for him. Eddie yells at himself to focus, asking all of the questions he has been storing up for the session so he knows what he can do for Christopher next.

* * *

**Buck**

The thwack of his spoon over the back of TK's knuckles is a little louder than Buck expected. But for the raucous laughter Judd bellows out as TK pretends to _pout_, Buck doesn't feel too bad. He winks as he piles an extra spoonful of spaghetti and meatballs on to TK's plate, waiting to watch the smile split on his face.

"I don't even know how you have the nerve to call this thing a _meatball_," Judd says, with one already stuffed in his cheek giving him the appearance of a lopsided hamster. He _likes_ them, even if he pretends to complain. He's had three already when he thinks Buck wasn't paying attention.

"It's shaped like a meatball," Mateo points out, his words also muffled by how quickly he is eating. Buck is just happy that everyone seems to like his cooking so much.

"Yeah. But I mean, there's no _meat_ in it. It's vegetarian. So everyone can eat it," Paul adds, earning himself a grin from Marjan from across the table.

"We can just call it _balls_ if you want, Judd," Buck replies as he sits down to finally start his own plate. The 126 doesn't let him down, _tittering_ around the table like he's told a filthy joke. TK even chokes a little as he laughs, gulping down a glassful of water to clear it.

"How'd you even learn to cook like this?" Marjan asks, a little politer than the rest of the team for waiting until she has finished her mouthful before talking.

Buck takes his time to answer, as he has come to do whenever anything to do with Los Angeles comes up. It is still a punch to his gut just thinking about it. "I learned at my old firehouse," he says, picturing all the times he has stood with Bobby learning recipes and asking questions that Bobby never seemed to mind. Did he, though? Was all of Bobby's kindness nothing but humoring him?

"Well. Their loss is our gain," Judd says from the other end of the table raising his glass of juice in toast. A round of raised glasses shouldn't put the lump in Buck's throat that it does, but it happens often enough. Every time he feels accepted. Every time he is invited somewhere, or they call or message him outside of work. He'd had all of that with the 118 at some point, Buck is sure. But somewhere along the way when he got hurt, they forgot him. And now he doesn't always trust the rose-tinted memories he has. Was he projecting a friendship on them the whole time?

Buck likes Austin. He has a great apartment, loves the job, and when he isn't working has more things to do than he has time for. TK and his boyfriend Carlos don't understand the word _no_ when they drag him and Paul dancing at least once a week. Mateo is _awesome_ at line dancing, and quiz nights, always putting the rest of the crew to shame on the nights they go out as a team. And Grace Ryder, well; Buck doesn't have enough good things to say about her. A part of it is the same calmness she exhibits that reminds him of _Maddie_ at work, but more of it is her kindness, and her welcome. And the way Judd melts around her like he forgets there is anyone but her in the world never fails to leave Buck smiling. Even if it does make him wistful for knowing he will never experience the same thing.

Which of course makes him think of _Eddie_, and how Eddie has been messaging him every day since his visit to the 118 firehouse. Buck can't bring himself to message back; even when Eddie tries to lure him in with news of Christopher. Buck misses them both desperately but knows it isn't the same for them. He wants to tell Hen to pass on a message that Eddie doesn't need to feel guilty. Eddie doesn't owe him anything. He doesn't have to keep pretending that they are friends.

Hen hasn't stopped messaging him either, but unlike anyone else on the team, that never wavered. Hen messaged him every day he was off sick, cheered every moment of his recovery, was the one who chased after him _that_ day; even if he was too upset to stop to talk to her. Buck would like to call her a friend, but is a little too guarded to let himself.

Buck has been here in Austin a month now. He won't go so far as to call it a _home_ yet, but already the thought of leaving in five months fills him with trepidation. Where can he go after here, if he doesn't really belong anywhere? Where can he be if, when Buck can't sleep at night, all he wants to do is to go back to his _family_ in Los Angeles, even if they don't want him back? Why does he find himself scrolling through all of Eddie's messages planning out answers that he never sends, for missing Eddie and Christopher the most? Buck can't think about it, especially now, when he has another team that he needs to give his full attention. He bumps his arm against Paul's, confirming their plans for a night at his playing video games on their day off, pretending to himself he isn't picturing a night doing the same with Eddie and Christopher instead.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooops! Did I say this was posting weekly? I forget; anyway! Posting weekly every Thursday ❤️️

**Eddie**

Hen's laughter is infectious as it echoes out in the firehouse, turning up the corners of Eddie's mouth in a smile he hasn't felt in a while. He rinses his mug from coffee and rounds the corner to where she is sat on a couch, leaning on the wall as he watches her talk.

"How long did you stay on?" Hen is saying, her face the picture of delight.

Buck's voice drifts over to Eddie, winding him. He doesn't immediately hear the number of seconds Buck managed to stay on the rodeo simulator he'd ridden at a local bar where he is, Eddie's brain needing a few extra seconds to catch up. His mind only chants Buck's name on repeat as he rushes across the floor to join Hen.

"Buck?" he calls out, watching Hen's face fall, then her eyebrow raise like she is asking Buck a question.

"I need to go," Buck says out of Eddie's eyeline. "Speak soon, okay?"

"Okay. Bye."

A violent clench to Eddie's stomach cripples him, leaving him having to take a steadying breath before he can talk. "Where is he? _How_ is he? Is he—"

Hen cuts him off only with a shake of her head, resting her hands on her thighs as she goes to stand.

"_Please_, Hen."

"Eddie..." 

"He won't talk to me. He won't _answer_ me," Eddie pleads, the way his voice catches making Hen's tongue click.

"Well," she says as she stands, avoiding Eddie's eyes, "I guess that means he's not ready to talk."

"But he's talking to _you_," Eddie says as he follows her out, Hen barely acknowledging he is with her.

"And what does that tell you?"

"I don't know. I don't understand any of this."

Hen pops the lid on a Tupperware box of cookies—ones that Bobby made and used to be Buck's favorite—then pours herself a coffee, taking her time to respond. "He says he needs time."

"Time for what, though?" Eddie asks, trying not to let his voice rise in anger.

Hen only gives him a _look_ as she eats, rolling her eyes when Eddie shrugs in exasperation. "We really hurt him, Eddie. We did; all of us. We threw him that party and welcomed him back, then the second he was sick again, we just... carried on without him. Like we'd given him his one chance."

It's true, Eddie knows it is, has replayed every single scenario to see how any other than what really happened could have turned out better. Not one has, and Eddie knows they could have done _so_ much more as a team to help Buck. As Buck's _friends_. "Wasn't our decision," he says which is lame; they both know it the moment the words are out. He doesn't even _mean_ them.

Hen curls her hands around the counter, still reluctant to talk. "Look. He doesn't want to talk about this place with me. He shuts down the second I mention anyone; especially you. So my guess is, if Buck is specifically not wanting to speak to _you_, whatever you did is the thing hurting him the most."

Eddie _knows_ it, doesn't really want to have it confirmed by anyone else. He didn't do _anything_, he wants to say, which is exactly the problem. He had been wrapped up in so many things: the confusion of hating Shannon for dying; being scared for Christopher because he didn't know how to help with his nightmares; waking in a sweat himself so many nights for dreaming of losing both Christopher _and_ Buck in that tsunami; and being so angry with everything just feeling like too much, that he hadn't really taken the time to check in on Buck.

Sure, they had spent time together, doing all the things they usually did; even if it was _less_ time together than it used to be. But had they really talked? Eddie has replayed all the language he'd used when Buck was recovering with his leg; he knows he didn't say enough. All the words he'd said to praise Buck for taking care of Christopher, yet not one had been about how terrified Eddie was of something happening to _him_. He's never told Buck how scared he'd been when he'd collapsed at that party. He hasn't told him _anything_ about how he really feels, for being too scared of all the changes it would bring. That, and still not quite admitting all he is feeling for Buck to himself.

Hen sighs, that deep, silent sigh she does when she is trying to be tactful, even when someone is in the wrong. Eddie _hates_ being on the receiving end of it. "Look. Eddie. He's doing good. _Really_ doing good; it's good to see him honestly smiling again. Can't you just be happy for him?"

"I am. But I want him back here. I _need_ him back here."

No one gives quite such a telling, shrewd look as Hen does. "For this place? Or for you?"

Eddie can't answer. Not for the fear of being honest, or for those words needing to be said to Buck before anybody else. He only stands, looking at her, silently asking her to understand the things he cannot say.

"We have _eyes_, Eddie; all of us," Hen says then, making Eddie's heart race as his mouth rushes to deny it before he has even formed words. Hen holds up a hand before he even can. "It's been pretty obvious for a while now. I kind of figured that it goes both ways. I just don't think _Buck_ knows that."

Eddie pleads with himself to say _something_; anything at all to help start climbing out of this mess. "I don't know what to do about it. Any of it," he whispers, fearful of overheard words, of saying too much, and bringing a fresh disaster down on his world.

Hen only looks at him, showing no sympathy at all. Her expression shifts as her shoulders slump, and then she is standing straight, beginning to walk away from Eddie again. "I think you need to figure that out first. I think you need to find a way to let him _know_ you want him back here. Maybe you need to just figure out what you _want_."

* * *

**Buck**

The glass of water pushed into his hand Buck drains in seconds, already sliding it back across the bar for another. He smiles for the wink he receives from the bartender and drains the glass again, pushing away to head back to where the others are dancing.

Buck loves this club. It's the kind of place where every person is welcome and free to do their own thing. He has danced and flirted with guys, and girls, even kissed a couple when Paul had pushed alcohol into his hand instead of the water they all agreed to drink for most of the night to support TK, allowing Buck to let his defenses down.

TK, Carlos, and Paul have given him signals across the dance floor for some of his dance partners cheering him on, and there have been two occasions when Buck has considered taking someone home. But he can't. Any time Buck even thinks of sharing himself with another person, the only face that fills his thoughts is _Eddie's_. Even after the three months he has been here in Austin, all Buck wants is _him_.

It is probably no coincidence that having time away from the situation has really given Buck time to _think. _How utterly gutted he'd felt for being an afterthought, a former colleague with no real connection to any of the 118 outside of work besides Hen, was nothing compared with the devastation he'd known for being so unimportant to Eddie. Eddie, who Buck had spent more time with than any other person beside Maddie in his entire time in Los Angeles. Buck knows, now he is far away and safe from revealing all he is feeling, that he has been in love with Eddie for a while. He'd _thought_ Eddie was at least beginning to feel something similar back, even if neither of them voiced any of those feelings out loud. He'd been so wrong; Buck doesn't know if he can really trust his instincts for anything now, aside from for work.

Eddie's last text to him was a while ago now, the day he had overheard Buck speaking with Hen in the 118 firehouse. Hen has been in contact every day since he left; even if it's just a meme she is sharing, or a picture of Denny. Always something so Buck knows he is in her thoughts, that no matter what, or where he is, she is still his friend. Bobby he has heard from like clockwork once a week, his messages ones Buck has no way of answering. Though it is that last message from Eddie that still plays in Buck's thoughts, words he can recite perfectly even now.

_Hey, Buck_, he'd read, _I'm sorry. I'm sorry I keep messaging when it isn't what you want. That was selfish. If you need some time away from all of us, I get it. I just want you to know I'm always here. Chris misses you; he asks about you every single day. Everything feels weird without you. But that's not on you, that's on us; I'm sorry we weren't there for you when we should have been. I don't know how we make up for that. Please take care; I'll leave you alone for now, but if you want me, for anything, I'm literally just a call away. Take care. Eddie._

Buck knows he shouldn't have kept the message. He shouldn't keep scrolling through all the messages he keeps, all the images he still has of Eddie and Christopher on his phone. It _hurts_ for how wrong he has been about his importance in their world. Even this last message from him feels formal. _Eddie_ doesn't apparently miss him at all. Maddie keeps telling Buck to forget about him. Forget about how he feels, and how lost he is without him. But how can he forget about Eddie, when Buck knows he has _never_ been so in love?

Though it isn't just about Eddie. Buck had thought the 118 was his family. How embraced he has been here by the 126 feels so easy, so natural, yet even their affection for him Buck won't let himself trust too much. What if they decide they don't need him anymore either? What if, when his six months are up, they wave him goodbye and turn their backs, like he hasn't made any difference to their lives at all?

"You've got that look again," TK says loudly in his ear as he clasps him on the shoulder, and Carlos steps into his view.

"What look?"

"That one," Carlos says as he looks him up and down. "The one that says you're thinking about someone you got no business thinking about. That don't deserve all of this _time_."

"All this _moping_," TK adds, lightly whacking him in the side just enough to make Buck laugh and curl away.

"I'm not _moping_, okay? I'm just... I'm just not... I don't know what I am."

"What you _are_, is not _looking_," TK says, tightening his grip on his shoulders and turning Buck so he can look, pointing out several people who apparently have been looking at _him_. Buck hasn't the interest, or energy, to look back.

"_Paul _is looking," Carlos points out, nodding behind Buck's head to where, when they look, he is sandwiched between two women on the dance floor with his head thrown back in joyous laughter.

"I don't think that counts as _looking_," Buck says, letting himself be tugged.

"Well. If you're not gonna look, are you gonna _dance_?" Carlos asks, which is what the three of them do together, laughing and carefree, lifting Buck's mood in seconds. Especially because TK's eyes light up when a favorite song starts, and his voice carries above just about everything else as he sings along. Carlos' look for him is adoring, which just for a moment makes Buck wistful for Eddie again. He pushes the thought aside where it belongs, and instead lets himself enjoy dancing with his friends. Even if they will only be his friends for a while.

* * *

**Eddie**

He can't have another day like this. Eddie is _exhausted_; from an awful shift, for how much sleep he's not getting, for running on autopilot and feeling so numb. He is even bordering on losing his temper with _Christopher_, whose excited chatter about a great day at school is just loud enough to set his teeth on edge. Eddie hugs him extra tight for it, pressing his nose into his shoulder to breathe him in for a little stability, guilt pressing hard on his stomach and stealing his appetite.

That Abuela knows, and Carla knows, and probably just everybody knows the source of his _mood_ of late isn't helping much with anything. Eddie finds himself _angry_ at Buck for not even returning a single message, then furious with himself for contributing to what sent him away in the first place.

Missing Buck has permeated the 118 firehouse as well; Eddie knows he isn't projecting about that. Eddie knows the others can feel it, even with the shifts moved around so they are never short. Maybe that is for the best. He hasn't been on a crew with Chim and Hen in weeks. It wouldn't feel right without Buck there with them anyway, but having what has been _his_ team all now apart has stolen much of the enjoyment from Eddie's work.

Even Bobby, while forever professional, feels the absence of Buck. Eddie can see that he does. He's seen him stand by Buck's former locker peeling the tape back with a sag of his shoulders before replacing it. Eddie thinks he has overhead him making calls trying to find out at least if Buck is okay where he is. Hen says that he's _happy_ still, and that even she isn't privy to his whereabouts. Eddie would ask Maddie but she hasn't spoken to any of them. Things remain strained between her and Chim, and for all Eddie knows for the mournful look on his face the few times he's seen him around the firehouse, it won't be much longer before things between them are through for good.

Does Buck have any idea what his absence has done to them? Not so that he can take the blame, but because, Eddie thinks now, that there is no way Buck could possibly know how much he binds this team together. Since his departure, there have been no dinners at Bobby and Athena's, and no work nights out. Even the dinners which have become a staple of the 118 are _quiet_ these days. Eddie is convinced that if Buck were to walk in the 118 firehouse now, he wouldn't recognize the place. Not for its facilities, but for all the color and light seeping out of its atmosphere.

With no appetite for his dinner, Eddie checks Christopher is happy with the book he is devouring at the end of the couch, then takes their dishes through to the kitchen to clean. Under a fridge magnet is a picture of Christopher with Buck from the morning before the tsunami hit, taken in Buck's kitchen when they had made pancakes together before heading out.

Christopher continues to add to the pile of pictures and paintings for Buck, which has now moved to on top of the fridge for there being so many. Eddie is distracted from washing dishes by looking through, his eyes stinging for how many there are of late featuring Buck front and center. Christopher has stopped asking, because Eddie doesn't know what to say. He has finished his therapy sessions, no longer really has nightmares, yet there is a sadness on his son's face that Eddie can't help but feel is his fault. For Buck being gone, for his own sadness, for everything seeming to have lost color in the world.

The mug that had become Buck's; the fancy, curly straws he'd bought Christopher; the spice rack he'd insisted Eddie _had_ to have because he could never find anything otherwise; these things taunt Eddie as he cleans, everywhere he looks seeing something that reminds him of Buck.

Maybe what Eddie really needs is a break. He hasn't taken the time to process his feelings for Buck, continually pushing them back so he doesn't have to talk about or acknowledge them. He has lost his joy in his work for the reminder that Buck is gone. Eddie is furious at himself daily, for making everything about this messier. Maybe if he joins Christopher for a couple of weeks of his school holidays when he goes to his parents in El Paso, Eddie might feel clearer-headed.

Christopher is excited for the thought of most of the summer being spent with his cousins. Eddie tries not to dwell on the fact that the only leave he'd had booked he'd had to cancel, because it was for a couple of days him and Buck had planned to take Christopher to a traveling fayre. With Buck gone, and bad weather, Christopher hadn't been interested at all. As Eddie thinks, he can't really remember the last time he took more than a day off. Though does he really want to go to Texas? He knows Christopher is looking forward to having at least a few weeks of independence, and Eddie knows his parents will start goading him into _coming home_ before they even make it out the airport. But for the reprieve of missing Buck, and the thought of a little time away from here to really clear his head, the idea of _Texas_ starts to bloom as a good one in Eddie's chest. He'll speak to Bobby tomorrow, Eddie decides, joining Christopher on the couch and throwing an arm around his shoulders, kissing the top of his head when he snuggles in and starts to read to him.

Buck would love this book. Eddie thinks Christopher chose it from the school library because it reminded him of Buck, whose fascination for talking about the stars and planets must have rubbed off on him. Maybe he is just projecting, and it is _him_ who sees Buck in everything, not Christopher. Eddie closes his eyes listening to his son read, pleading with this _empty_ feeling in his heart to just go.

* * *

**Buck**

"You okay, Buck?"

Buck groans as he spits to clear his mouth of its bitterness, leaning into Marjan's hand on his back. "Yeah. I'm fine."

"You don't look so good," Mateo says with concern in his eyes when Buck can straighten up again to look, pushing a bottle of water into his hand.

TK and Paul give him a smirk but say nothing, while Judd's laughter bellows out all around. He clasps Buck on the shoulder, nodding for the crew to follow now they have freed an irate cow from fencing as they were called to do, turning Buck to at least face the direction of their fire truck.

"Buck. You've been here, what; little over three months?"

Buck nods, draining his water bottle already, feeling in the pockets of his uniform for some gum.

"You telling me, after all this time, you still ain't used to the smell of a little _dung_?" Judd asks, his eyes bright with amusement when Buck looks.

"It wasn't just _dung_," Buck protests, retching again for replaying the way the cow they had been trying to rescue literally shit in fear, and all that _stuff_, and _smell_, pouring out of it like something out of a horror movie. If there is one thing Buck will never be used to here in Texas, it is all the animal smells they are exposed to. Even the ones he dealt with back in Los Angeles never smelt as bad as _this_. Why would anyone want to bring a live cow to a farmer's market, anyway? The poor thing was spooked by so many people. No wonder it got itself stuck.

"Not feeling a little tender?" Judd asks, still teasing. They had only had a _few_ beers between them all last night, the weekly line dancing and drinks that Buck had initially shied away from now the highlight of his week. He _loves_ it; the dancing, the music, and more than anything the way the entire crew gets together without fail, along with friends and family members so any absence is filled because there are so many people around.

"I'm good," Buck replies, slapping him on the arm with a look that tells Judd not to worry. Buck knows from conversations had at Captain Strand and TK's house that Judd is more than competent to lead the crew, but would prefer to follow. For how good he is at his job, how knowledgeable, and how honestly pig-headed he can be about some scenarios, Buck is sure Judd would make any station an incredible captain. Maybe some years down the line he'll try for it, though for now all he does when they aren't on a job or in the firehouse is reiterate how thankful he is for this temporary promotion, and how glad he'll be to have Owen back to take over.

The 126 crew _work_, not only because they make an effort to bond, and respect one another, it is _more_ than that. Buck thinks he only realized it recently, and what an impact it makes. Everyone on the team lets themselves be _vulnerable_. They share whatever it is they are dealing with openly, because they know without needing to ask that they have the entire crew's support. Was it so different with the 118? Buck thinks either he is remembering things differently or he refuses to acknowledge much of the good he remembers, for now being gone so long. He still misses them, all of them; more than he thought he ever could have imagined. It still _hurts_ him that he was forgotten so quickly. Even on the days he argues with himself that he is overreacting. Even when Buck curses at himself for caring too much. No amount of telling himself the relationship within the 126 is special, in a way not everyone gets to experience on a crew, can shift his mood when he is feeling _maudlin_ about the place that used to be home. Not that he has much time these days for being maudlin. Buck is so busy between work and all the things he does now socializing that there are moments when he even looks forward to being home alone. He has hated that for as long as he can remember, loneliness creeping in and suffocating him when all he has is himself for company.

"Still coming to lunch?" TK asks when they have all climbed in the truck and are making their way back to the firehouse, still with about three hours left to go on their shift.

"Now I _know_, Buck's not gonna offend my wife by not turning up to lunch just 'cos of a little bad _smell_ turning his stomach," Judd calls back from the truck cab.

Buck laughs, hand resting over that stomach sure by the time they are in the firehouse he will feel better again. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Damn right."

Buck watches Judd nod, gets a nudge from Paul in the shoulder, a final concerned eyebrow raise from Mateo, and then the subject shifts again. They talk about what they are doing on their days off both separately and together, while trying to guess what Grace might be cooking for lunch. They tease Paul for officially being the worst at bowling after the team putting out a fire in an arcade earned them an impromptu free game.

"What's that place?" Buck says as he points out the window at a large red building that they pass, still new enough in Austin to be fascinated and keep up a string of questions everywhere they go.

"Thinkery," Judd calls back to him. "It's this interactive kids' museum with all kinds of gadgets and gizmos for 'em to play with, and learn at the same time. It's _fun_."

Christopher loves these kinds of places. Buck can't help but think of him as he looks, remembering a similar museum he and Eddie took him to one weekend which now feels like a lifetime ago. Buck swallows back the sorrow he feels when a wave of _missing_ them hits, determined not to let it sour his mood.

He's getting better at it, in a way, letting Eddie drift into his thoughts long enough to acknowledge he still cares about him, then actively changing his thoughts to other things. Buck tries the tactic again here now, sat at the crossing since a delivery truck further up is holding up traffic. His attention settles on the playground opposite, smiling at what looks like a sea serpent made into a giant climbing frame.

His heart _stops_, for seeing a boy with a familiar pair of crutches positioning to pose in front of the serpent, _Eddie's_ voice carrying to him in the fire truck as he suggests to Christopher where to stand.

"Dad, look; a fire truck," Christopher shouts out then, Buck's heart remembering it is supposed to be beating and doing so double time to make up for earlier.

Eddie turns his head, spinning around fully when they make eye contact, the woman he is standing with bending quickly as Eddie drops his phone. Buck sees him mouthing his name as the traffic finally clears and the truck starts moving, shrinking back from the window with a lump in his throat. Eddie is here. _Here_, in Austin. Why is he here; there is no reason he'd be looking for _him_? Is there?

Buck curses under his breath for even letting himself be hopeful, for remembering Eddie has a favorite aunt—Effe—that lives here. They're _visiting_; it's nothing to do with _him_. Buck argues with his heart to calm, slipping back into the conversation with the 126 pretending he isn't broken all over again.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Eddie**

"Don't you _dare_ pretend you didn't see me," Eddie hisses through gritted teeth as he tries Buck's phone for the eighth time since they got back to Tant Effe's apartment. He is lucky that she caught his phone and he has one at all to try to _harass_ Buck with in the first place, for him being so surprised to see him it had almost slipped from his hand.

Eddie has sent sixteen texts, each increasingly angry, leaving two messages when it has taken all he has not to break down. He can't think, or feel, or do much of anything. If it wasn't for Tant Effe keeping Christopher busy with helping him put together the car they bought in the Trickery gift shop, Eddie thinks he might have punched a few walls. He might still.

He _has_ to see him.

Eddie and Christopher arrived here in Austin just yesterday, after Tant Effe insisted they start their vacation with her first, paying for flights so Eddie couldn't argue. They are booked for a flight tomorrow afternoon to El Paso, giving Eddie ample time to prepare for his parents bombarding him with questions and not-so-subtle hints. Though now, Eddie doesn't think he can go anywhere, so frozen for the realization that Buck is _here_ that no other thought stands a chance of being focused on. When his brain unsticks from being shocked, Eddie pulls up Google to check for the nearest firehouse. He'll go to every one of them in Austin if he has to, to find him. There is no way he is walking away from Buck now.

Eddie kisses Christopher goodbye, waves his aunt's car keys which she gestures for him to take without a question. Even _she_ knows about Buck, from the conversations they've had over the phone so often, and apparently for seeing them together when she came to visit him in Los Angeles. All of that will need to be dealt with later, but first, he has _Buck_ to find.

It takes him three attempts to find a fire station that has even _heard_ of an Evan Buckley, their captain pointing him in the direction of another station with a quizzically raised eyebrow after explaining they used to be colleagues. They used to be _friends_. And if he'd not been so afraid of change, they could have been on their way to so much more. Eddie can't dwell on that either.

Eddie pulls up outside the 126 firehouse pleading with Buck to be here. He will spend as long as he needs to track him down, but Eddie is hit by the _need_ to see him so strongly, he can barely drag himself from his car. He walks into the station, hearing voices and laughter as he takes in the view. This place looks _amazing_; new, and well-kitted out, and _homely_, actually. If Buck really is _here_, he couldn't have found himself a better place.

He can _hear_ him. Eddie _chokes_ for hearing Buck's voice, the easy way he is taunting back and forth with his new crew. Do _they_ know him well enough to notice the falseness of his tone, the tension that is laced through every one of Buck's words?

The crew falls silent as Eddie walks into what must be the fanciest firehouse kitchen, their coffee cups clattering on the counters as all eyes turn his way.

"Can we help you with something?" one of them says; tall, so very Texan, with a tone of welcome that says he is just three minutes from strong-arming Eddie out of the firehouse.

Eddie can't find his voice. "Uh..."

"We used to work together. In L.A.," Buck tells the man, his eyes not quite reaching Eddie's when he looks. He looks _crushed_ for him being here. Eddie tries not to take that personally.

"We're just finishing our shift handover," another one tells him with his hands out in a placating gesture that infuriates Eddie for no good reason at all—aside from the protective way he steps toward Buck, sharing a look with the rest of the crew that says _Eddie_ has been a subject they have talked about. Or that they don't need to ask questions about. Or _something_; whatever it is, Eddie is pissed off for it.

"Well. I don't know if—"

"_Judd_," the protective one says out the corner of his mouth to stop _Judd_ talking. "It's—"

"This is Eddie Diaz," Buck says in a toneless, unreadable voice. Eddie nods around the crew for the introduction, trying to remember everyone's name. Not that he will; how can he think of anything when _Buck_ is stood right here before him?

"Well, _Eddie_. We're about done here. You're welcome to join us for lunch."

_Judd_, Eddie thinks trying not to snarl the name in his head, sure he must be the captain, even if it doesn't say as much on his badge. "Thanks," he replies, trying for a neutral tone instead of a bitter one. He fails. "Not sure I have an appetite."

Judd _smirks_ at him, which only incenses Eddie further. "Well. Buck. I'm sure Grace'll let you off this one time."

Eddie snarls internally for whoever the hell _Grace_ might be.

Buck nods, and if no one else here can see how reluctant he is to move, well then it is even more blatant to Eddie. He knows that posture and that half-smile, the way he so delicately puts his cup into the sink to wash, for how on edge he really is. Buck mumbles goodbyes at his _team_, waving to Eddie wordlessly to head back out.

"Call if you need _anything_, okay?" calls out _TK_ with what is probably supposed to be a smile for _Eddie_. Eddie loathes it, wants to say something harsh in response. He knows what _jealousy_ tastes like now, and Eddie _hates_ it.

"Are you actually not hungry, or...?" Buck says when they are outside, stood beside a black truck with his keys already out. A _nice_ truck. They must be paying Buck well, at least.

"Guess I could eat," Eddie replies, wishing he could drop some of the tension from his voice. Though if he isn't tense, he'll reveal how angry he is. And he is only angry because he is hurting so much, so close to _crying_ for Buck being right here yet never feeling further away from him. Buck has been gone a little over three months and has already built up a whole life without him? Without any of them?

"Okay. Well, there's this great place just—"

"Somewhere we can _talk_?" Eddie snaps back at him. He doesn't mean to, and loathes himself for it.

Buck nods, his expression not wavering, climbing into his truck. "Did you drive here?"

"Yeah."

"Then follow me."

Eddie sprints to his car, heart in his throat sure he might lose Buck in the traffic. He doesn't though, pulling into a parking space outside an apartment block that is impressive, and makes him wonder what Buck has done with his place back in L.A.

"It's sublet," Buck tells him when he asks, leading Eddie into a spacious, airy, open-plan apartment that should look like a showroom but is filled with things that make it a home. _Buck's_ home.

"And this place?" Eddie asks, taking in blue walls and light wooden furniture, a cream couch that is almost three times the size of his and Christopher's, and a TV so big it is practically obscene.

"Rented."

"For how long?"

"For as long as there is work here for me. Which will be up in about three months from now," Buck adds, fixing them a sandwich as he tells Eddie about Captain Strand, Judd standing in for him, and how great everything is at the 126. Buck hasn't looked at him yet, even passes him the sandwich he's made without making eye contact.

"What are you _doing_ here, Buck?" Eddie says when they sit at the dining table, all the fight out of him. All he wants is to understand.

"Well. Right now, I'm hoping to eat, then get some sleep. I just got off shift."

"I mean, what are you doing here in _Austin_?" Eddie amends, knowing fresh guilt for keeping Buck awake if he is tired. Though if he was planning on going to lunch with the 126, how would that have made him any less tired?

Buck stands again, coming back to the table with a filter jug of water and two glasses. "I spoke to Chief Alonzo. Said I was thinking of quitting altogether because I couldn't understand why I was being excluded from the 118 when I was fit for work. He heard about this crew needing someone for a few months. Think he was happy to pass any liability I might have been on blood thinners out to another state. By the time I come back there, if I even do, whatever crew he puts me on won't need to be concerned about that."

"You're not coming back to _us_?" Eddie says feeling sick, watching Buck pluck at his sandwich, then force himself to take a bite.

Even when he has chewed and swallowed it, Buck takes his time to respond. "I don't know where I'm going next. Maybe they'll find somewhere else that needs someone just for a few months. I don't know yet."

"So, that's it? You just walk away from us?"

"What about you?" Buck asks, avoiding his question. "What are you and Christopher doing here in Austin? Visiting Tant Effe?"

Buck knows so many details of his life. Eddie's hopes, and fears, and almost everything about him. He knows Eddie's family, because he _is_ Eddie's family. He'd thought so, anyway. How can he be sitting there so passively?

"Yeah. Chris is spending some of the school holidays with my parents. I thought I'd come with for a couple of weeks. Stopped here first."

"How is he?" Buck asks, with a slight dip in his voice and his face turned away, like it is painful to him.

"He's good. Great. Got spoiled today in—"

"Thinkery?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"You were right outside it," Buck says, keeping his eyes on his sandwich and plate. "Judd said what the building was."

"Right."

"So, he's doing okay?"

At least Buck misses _Christopher_, Eddie thinks, telling himself he isn't allowed to be jealous of his own _son_.

"Yeah. He's doing great. Really. He misses _you_. If he knew where I was now, I don't like to think about the fit he'd be throwing."

"It's probably for the best," Buck agrees, though at the same time looks heartbroken. What the hell is that about?

"Well, _yeah_, Buck. You disappearing off the face of the earth without so much as a word, not even a goodbye, and then showing up out of nowhere? That might mess with him a little."

Now Buck looks _devastated_; Eddie didn't know it was possible to feel this much guilt. "I never meant to hurt Chris—"

"But everyone else it was okay to?" Eddie retorts, most of his sandwich shredded instead of eaten. He watches Buck lower his sandwich then push his plate away like his appetite has gone as well.

"Nobody else back there would care."

"Come on—"

"I mean it," Buck replies, and to Eddie's horror his eyes are bright with tears. "I walked in to the 118 that last time, and I was just _nothing_ to you. Any of you. You'd replaced me, taped over my locker, not saying a word about any of it. You didn't tell me, not Bobby, or anyone. Hen thought I knew, but, I _didn't_. Do you know how that felt? How it _still_ feels?"

"Buck—"

"Work is _everything_ to me, Eddie," Buck says, shaking his head so he won't interrupt him. "And the 118; you all _meant_ everything to me too. I thought we were a _family_. But you just... Chim gets hurt, twice—badly. You put up banners and have him back on the crew, you don't bring anyone else in from outside. But me? What did I do that was so wrong, Eddie?"

"It was the blood thinners—"

"It was an _excuse_. We could have found a way around it. If Bobby had filled my spot on the team with someone else from _our_ crew, I would've understood. But _her_?"

"She's gone now," Eddie says, hating how quickly Buck is falling apart in front of him and not knowing what to do.

"That's not the _point_, Eddie."

"Then, what is the point?" Eddie knows, of course he knows. This isn't just about Buck feeling rejected by the 118 crew. It's about _him_, keeping things from him, withdrawing from their conversations. Never saying any of the things he _needs_ to, to accompany the looks they used to share.

Buck nods in what looks to Eddie like resignation. His heart flutters in protest calling for Eddie to _speak_, but he doesn't know how.

"You're right. There isn't one."

"Buck—"

"So. When do you fly to El Paso?" Buck says, standing, gesturing to see if Eddie has finished with his plate, then clearing up after their barely-eaten lunch. Eddie watches him from the dining table needing to compose himself before he stands, for how weak his knees feel.

"Tomorrow."

"That's good. I'm sure Christopher is looking forward to spending some time with all his cousins."

Yeah. He is," Eddie agrees, standing slowly then walking over to join him.

"Good."

"Buck—"

"So, listen. Not that it's not great to catch up with you, because it is. But I'm really tired," Buck says, still keeping his eyes elsewhere.

Eddie is being dismissed, he realizes as his heart starts to race. He imagines the agony he is feeling might be exactly how Buck must have felt three months back. But what more can he say? "Then I'll leave you to sleep."

"Okay. Thanks. Give my love to Christopher, okay?" Buck says, all but shoving him towards the door. Perhaps not physically, but he can't make it more obvious how much he wants him to leave. Eddie knows panic, because this is his very last chance. He spins on his heel beside the door making Buck jolt back for the sudden movement.

"Please. Can we talk some more? Tonight? Or in the morning, or—"

"I'm pretty busy," Buck says, his throat clicking. Why won't he look at him?

"_Please_. Just give me maybe a couple of hours." He _has_ to make him listen. He _has_ to let him talk, even if Eddie isn't sure what they can talk about.

"What good will that do?"

"_Please_, Buck." He sounds _desperate_. Good. Buck needs to know how serious he is.

Buck shakes his head as he reaches for the door.

"I'll message you."

"But you _won't_. You haven't; not _once_ since you left." Eddie reaches out to grip lightly around Buck's wrist. Buck _sags_ where he is stood, gently nudging for Eddie to let go, which he does immediately.

"That's because there wasn't anything left to _say_."

There is _so_ much left to say. Eddie has been rehearsing certain conversations with Buck for _months_, long before he left. He hates that he hasn't yet found the words to tell him how he feels. These last few seconds might be the last chance to do that, and he is _still_ stalling. Eddie pleads with himself to find some courage.

"Buck. I'm asking. _Please_. Just... give me a couple of hours for us to really talk. Not now; I know. But just... _please_, Buck."

Buck grits his teeth, dragging his phone from his back pocket to look. "I need to sleep, Eddie—"

"I know."

"So, maybe, you could come back at eight. I'm heading out at nine."

Eddie could cry for the relief he feels, even if his mind starts racing through all sorts of questions. Where is Buck going at nine o'clock at night? Who is he going with? Is Buck seeing someone? "Okay. Good. Of course. _Yes_. Thank you."

Buck nods, not looking happy about any of this at all. When he opens the door this time Eddie takes a step towards it, stopping in the doorway. He hesitates, turning half to look at him again.

"You'll be here, Buck?"

Buck nods, letting his eyes fall on Eddie's only for a second before he looks away. "Yeah. I'll be here."

"Okay. Okay; I'll see you in a few hours."

It is just before two. Eddie heads back to his aunt's with his thoughts whirring as he rehearses his words for later. How is he supposed to concentrate on a single thing with one eye on the clock counting down to eight?

* * *


End file.
